If I was a Betting Person

 

Image from Jeshoots.Com on 
UnSplash.

In my life, I have never been much of a betting person at all.

In addition, there were many times I would have bet against myself when I thought of ever making it to my dream of being a fulltime transgender woman. I had a real problem remembering all the negatives I encountered when I first left my closet and went out into the world. As I always mention, my gender woman’s workbook was totally blank when I started my life. The only fact which was rapidly becoming sure to me was that was I positive something was wrong with me.

Probably the only thing I would have been certain of was the gender issue I dealt with was deep and very complicated. Had I known how to bet on it, I would have. The only thing I would never bet on was I had my life completely backwards. Since I was born into a male world, I stayed there way too long. Staying on course to be the best man I could.

For awhile I thought I was successful in my male life as I held the bullies at bay by playing sports and working on cars. The proof was when I finally did work through my issues and transitioned, the very few people who knew the old male me were totally surprised when I told them. Proof I hid my true self very well, often sadly. I was hiding myself too well and, in the meantime, hurting my already frail mental health.

By this time, my male self was betting against any idea I could ever come out into the world as a transfeminine person. In fact, he did not know what the term meant. Following the adversity I went through coming out, he found out what perfecting our new life was all about. It was about going out as much as I could and exploring an exciting, yet scary, new world. It was about buckling up and staying the gender course I was on, when the times got rough. Which was often. I never had any of the feminine attributes a few cross dresser or transgender women had, so my path was often difficult.

As I became better at my feminine presentation, I began to think my dream was possible after all. I could even bet on it. For once, the optics of gender were working for me. Controlling the optics took a lot of work when I was rejected as a woman for so long. I would have pulled my chips back off the table and headed home. The big difference now was, I was able to outbluff others around me and stay in the game. I am sure no one mistook me as a cisgender woman, but on the other hand, no one was mistaking me as some sort of a bogus person trying to fool the public as a beginning drag queen. Betting on myself as an authentic person turned out to be the best move, I ever made in my life.

A good plan went a long way as I was able to carve out a new life in a relatively short time. I was not as shy as I was as a man and the world opened for me. After many false starts, success began to happen. I was staying out of my own way as a trans woman and letting my inner woman run my life.

I also learned where I was welcome to be a betting person in the world. For the most part, cisgender women accepted me in their world and let me play. Men, on the other hand, never wanted to bet me on anything. Which I quickly learned was not important to me after all. As long as other women validated me, that was all that mattered and again, my life improved.

Pushing my chips to the middle of my life’s gender table and betting I could make it to my dream I always wanted to live was all that mattered. Doing away with my conservative past helped me immeasurably during this portion of my life. I did not view myself as being any sort of courageous person. Just a person who had to do what she had to do to survive in a challenging world. The question became how fast I could learn the new rules of being a woman on my own terms. Decoding the difference between male and female privileges was the biggest challenge.

At that point, the betting game I was playing became closer to a game of mental gender chess. As an excuse, I kept telling myself I was not betting at all. Just playing the odds, I was right when it came to gender. When I expected I would make it as a transgender woman I did. I finally was right when I bet on myself.

 

 

 

 

 

Here Comes Tomorrow

 

My wife Liz, anniversary image.

Liz and I’s wedding anniversary was yesterday, and of course we had to go out and celebrate the event. It is actually our third anniversary after being together well over a decade.

Over the time I have written this blog, I hope I have not been short on trying to relay what my wife Liz has done for me. So much, as a matter of fact, she kicked me totally out of my closet, and showed me tomorrow was here. I could live a life as a transgender woman, finally free from my old male self. She was the direct opposite from my second wife who kept telling me there was no way she wanted to live with another woman. Liz told me she saw no male in me at all, and the rush was on to complete my male to female transition.

By the time all of this happened, and my second wife passed away, I was well into my sixties and had given up any hope of ever finding another serious relationship. Preferably with another woman who would accept me. As I always point out, to combat my severe loneliness, I was working the bar scene and even tried online dating which turned out to be a joke…until I met Liz. Or she met me. She responded to a “woman seeking woman” ad I put on a dating site and as luck would have it, she lived relatively close to me in Cincinnati. At the time she commented on the picture I used, saying I had sad eyes. Which I did, seeing as how I was going through the toughest time of my life. I had just lost my wife of twenty-five years as well as nearly all of the close friends I had to death as well as losing my business. I was grasping at any straw I could to stay afloat, sad eyes or not.

The only main straw I had was my sudden dependence on my strong inner feminine self. In a time of darkness, when my male self-had deserted me, she stepped up to provide the comfort and strength to move on. It was up to her to carve out a new life with new friends who had no previous contact at all with my old male self. Against all odds, in a sometimes-hostile world, she managed to do it, and my life slowly began to improve. With all the help and attention, I was receiving from my new ciswomen friends, I did not have to even give much of a second thought to the men who were afraid to approach me or just wanted to treat me as some sort of a fetish object. With my base sexuality settled again, it made it easier to feel secure in myself and move on with my male to female transition. Often it seemed my life was coming full circle and Liz was a major part of it.

During our anniversary dinner last night, we were fortunate that the venue was very empty without even the usual screaming kids so we could reminisce about our past and dream about the future. And of course, Liz took all the credit (as she always does) for reaching out to me first as a “woman seeking woman” post was an exceedingly rare response coming from any other women in those days. Plus, I was not shy in pointing out I was a transgender woman made my odds even more remote. If I received any responses at all, I felt like I had won the lottery of dating as a trans woman.

Because of Liz, I won the lottery for all the reasons I went into and more importantly, my gender transition which was always tomorrow became today. It was time to give away my remaining male clothes and follow Liz’s instructions on following my heart. A heart, it turned out, was feminine to start with and needed little to no encouragement to live. Regardless, when tomorrow finally came, it hit me hard and I needed time to adjust I really did not have. I needed to fall back on the decades of cross-dressing practice I had to feel more comfortable in the world. When I did, the joy of life I experienced was wonderful and even more so because I had someone special to share it with.

To be able to live the way I do still feels like a dream to me and Liz has helped me to realize my transfeminine dream more than anybody else ever did in my previous life.

Happy anniversary Liz and may we be able to celebrate many more together. And, thanks to all of you who have joined me in my journey. If you have not reached your tomorrow yet, keep trying. I am living proof it can still happen.

 

Home at Last

 

JJ Hart on left with wife Liz on right.

I know I start out too many posts with reference to exploring my mom’s clothes and makeup when I was very young, but I did. Even though I was caught in the thrill of the moment, I knew quickly that a couple things would be happening. The first of which was, I knew deep down I would not be escaping the urge I had to dress in girl’s clothes anytime soon. And the second of which was, I knew somehow, I wanted to do more than look like a girl and parade in front of a mirror, I wanted to experience the world girls around me lived in

All of this created severe stress and tension as I tried to internalize my thoughts. I daydreamed during any spare moment I had trying to figure out how I could live out my feminine dreams. I will forever wonder about how much quality life I lost when I was in another gender dimension. In fact, my daydreaming took me way into the years of my military service when I was able to take a spare moment and dream about living as I pleased as a transgender woman after I was discharged from military service. My biggest dream was to show off my new beautiful appearance in a new car in front of my former fiancé who rejected me when I came out to her. Just when I needed her the most. I can’t say any of that ever happened except in the dreams I kept alive in my mind.

Little did I know I was stuck on an extended trip as I was making my way back home. At that point, I had made it from my mom’s clothes, all the way to having a collection of feminine belongings I could take with me when I traveled, just in case I had the opportunity to make one of my rare public outings as a novice transgender woman. Home seemed as if it was a long way away.

I struggled to with the idea of giving up all together with being a male as I was building successes in a male world, regardless of myself. Every time I would have success in the world as a transfeminine person, my male self would come along and try to destroy her. It was frustrating and hard on my mental health to say the least and home at times looked so far away in the distance.

Another problem I had was I did not know where my true home was, and I went on several frantic searches to locate it. As I started to change jobs and move my family to different locations, I still could not find myself. I moved my wife all the way to the metro New York City area from Ohio, all the way back to very rural Ohio along the Ohio River to chase my tail. To no avail, I was attempting to chase a dream which in reality was so close to me. I could not see the forest for the trees. She was standing tall and proud in front of me the whole time.

Plus, I did not realize I never had the choice to live in the gender I preferred at all. Had I taken the time to really think about who I was and face the fact that I should have been a woman all along, it would have saved me so much turmoil in my life. It took me finally finding my gender home to do it. It all seems so simple to me now that I sometimes am ashamed to admit it. I was simply the same as so many other ciswomen in the world, I would have to face the same obstacles as they did, plus then some since I was transgender, I needed to be better. I would have to face tougher obstacles in being accepted for employment, education and other issues. But I knew all of that coming home, so I was ready.

Arriving home was such a relief when I finally arrived. The gender battle I always faced was done and my mental health improved. All the nights out when I was alone as a trans woman came back to help me because of all the lessons I needed to learn as I pursued my own womanhood.

Giving up on any idea of ever living as a man again freed up my inner woman to proudly show off the home she had built over the years. It was a long wait for her, around fifty to be exact, but she made it home.

 

 

 

Pause and Reflect

 

Image from UnSplash.

Yesterday, as I waited for the doctor to see me, I had a chance to pause and reflect on my long gender journey so far.

In doing so, I had the opportunity to think about how scared I was in the early days of going to the doctor as well as other things. Naturally, I discovered some other things I was trying in the new world I was in, totally over my head at times. On occasion, I don’t think I point out enough how little I had to work with when I started my male to female gender journey. I was from a very male dominated family so there were no understanding moms or sisters to help me. In addition, my body was very testosterone poisoned which meant I had no effeminate body parts to work with, except my legs which I received several compliments on at various Halloween parties I went to as a woman. While I was flattered by the attention, I rapidly became more paranoid. I began to take compliments on my legs by thinking the people left out the part that I had on my legs as I had good legs as a man dressed as a woman.

As I reflect on those confusing days, I wondered how I had continued to persist as well as I did. I guess the reason was because what I was considering doing felt so natural even though it was so scary to me. I spent hours and hours pausing my life and reflecting on where I wanted to go. Too many hours, to be exact as I needed to be careful, I was missing out on my regular life as a man. Even though I did not worry about losing my male life the way it was. I wanted him to go away, but I needed to make sure I did it right. In doing so, I was selfish. I wanted to keep some of my male privilege and transition at the same time. All I did was hurt myself and those around me in the short and long term.

In the short term, I knew had problems dressing my body as a woman. I had the overweight thick torso and broad shoulders to worry about which would not go away no matter how much I attempted to display my legs. I was doomed to failure by wearing too many short miniskirts. My male ego was working overtime, and it cost me many embarrassing moments in the public’s eye before I finally learned my lesson and learned to blend with the percentage of the world I really needed to deal with, which were the other women. It is like the other women I dealt with at the VA yesterday, I made sure I thanked all of them for being there, and they really appreciated it and treated me better. In the past, I would have been too shy to do such a thing.

As I continued to reflect on my past evolution of my transfeminine person, I remembered again how self-conscious I was on my early visits to the VA clinics I went to for care. I was so afraid of being stared at, all the way to being laughed at. Which I never actually was. It took me several years of progress to overcome where I was in life. It took me the visits I made to the venues I went to when I left the gay bar scene I was involved with and moved on after I was tired of being mistaken for a drag queen. Which I had nothing against, but it just wasn’t me.

At this point, I was wondering exactly what to do. Some I have talked to mentioned the “courage” word with me when I thought of going out in the world. On the other hand, I thought pursuing a transgender life was in many ways, my destiny I had been working on for decades. As I reflected, I thought how right I was. From the mirror to the world, I had carefully followed my path and just had to keep doing it. Or, instead of courage, I would never forgive myself if I had never tried to try out living my dream. Especially when I had proved to myself that I could do it. I had a giant inferiority complex concerning my entire life as a trans woman which I had to conquer.

By this time, my doctor was ready to see me, and I needed to return to the reality of today’s world. At the advanced age of seventy-six, I view each annual exam as very important of course. Even though it was invading my time to pause and reflect.

 

Off to see The Wizard or Doctor

Today will be a relatively short post because today is the day for my annual trip to see my primary physician at the Cincinnati Veterans Administration and I have to be there soon.

Actually, for this visit, I am going to a satellite location not far from where I live. In many ways, the time I have been going to that location reflects a change in how that clinic treats transgender patients. When I first started to go there years ago, I was met with a very chilly reception. Even to the point of being ignored by one rude receptionist and one temporary doctor who I had a virtual (online) visit with. He rudely said “what’s wrong with you” after he saw me. Obviously, not the reception I was looking forward to.

Happily, that was the last time I had to deal with him and the next time I went, I was greeted by a new pleasant, female primary provider (which I think is similar to a general practitioner in the civilian world.) The best part was, she had some sort of working knowledge of what it meant to have a transgender patient. So, I did not have to educate her.

Providers turn over quickly at the VA, so I hope she is still there when I go this morning because I have several important personal health care issues to discuss. Such as getting a mammogram, settling up an eye care appointment, and most pleasant of all…is it time for a colonoscopy. I am getting a flu shot this morning, but due to the interference by our “dear leader”, so far Covid shots are not available. To people of any age. Which is important to me because I spent three days in a hospital last winter with Covid. My wife Liz and I are going on vacation about the same time as last year in January and I would really like the added protection of a vaccine before that time rolls around.

For my visit, I always try to dress light casual for my VA appointments. It is also important to wear short sleeves in case she wants blood work done. It has been a year, so I imagine she will want it done today. I  am  lucky that I have never had any problems giving blood to the “vampires”.

One way, or another, I always hope I am treated with respect which I have been on my recent VA visits.

If anything, else happens, I will let you know because I know, health care varies radically between the VA medical centers. Especially with the mandated cutbacks led by you know who. Whose motto is “If it ain’t broke, break it.”

Down the Transgender Rabbit Hole

Going down the transgender rabbit hole was difficult for me.

The hole I chose was very dark, and full of dead-end passages before I ever had the chance to see any daylight. As I pursued my long-term dream of living as a woman, I needed to go through quite a few serious changes. In my rabbit hole, there was very little to no help. Especially, any guidance initially from other girls or women around me. It took me years to quit being a victim of my gender issues and make them an opportunity, as I scrambled around my rabbit hole to make it more comfortable.

Of course, it never became more comfortable, and exactly the opposite was true. The further down I dug, the darker my life became. Out of desperation, I searched for my gender daylight. Way past the annual Halloween parties I was going to dressed completely as a woman. Once a year in the public’s eye just wasn’t going to make it for me anymore. I needed other outlets to test how I was doing as a transgender woman. Novice or not. When I was out for the longest time, I felt like the rabbit which was being circled by a hawk. I was so unsure in my new high heels, I could not have run if I had wanted to. I was forced to stay and get abused early on.

I guess I was lucky that my abuse was relatively mild in nature as compared to what it could have been. I was just stared at and laughed at for the most part, until I learned to blend in with the ciswoman world at large. As I did though, I was sent flying down my transgender rabbit hole in tears as my progress was slow. At that point, two things happened. The first was, my hole became my gender safe place where no one could reach me. I was always the pretty girl I wanted to be. The other was the unforgettable sensation of why I was attempting such a crazy journey to start with. I was fairly successful in the male life I never really asked for, so why rock the boat and risk drowning.

Another important lesson I learned was my perception of a woman's life was all wrong. It was like I was watching a slide show on the walls of my rabbit hole when I viewed women. It was not until I tested the daylight of the world, did I realize the truth of what I was about to face. The most important truth I learned was how completely women interacted with men in the world and how innately strong they were. I wondered how and when I could ever fit in as a transfeminine person. I found the only way to learn was to do it and see if I would ever be let in to play in the girls’ sandbox.

To finally make my way into the sandbox, I needed to extend my rabbit hole even farther than I ever had imagined. Since I was always inherently shy, learning to look another woman in the eye and communicate with her was always so difficult for me. It took me years to have the confidence to believe in myself and do it. The most frustrating part was when I thought I had my new life all together, something else would come along to destroy my dream. My rabbit hole had collapsed and needed to be rebuilt. Once I accepted the new challenge of transgender womanhood, I moved on and rebuilt my rabbit hole larger and stronger than ever before.

As transgender women and trans men, we all have our rabbit holes to negotiate. Some are similar, some are not but along the way, we all end up giving away something that is precious to us. Sadly too, some of us discovered our rabbit hole was too deep or built so poorly we had to turn back. I’m referring to the so-called “detransitioners” who the gender bigots and TERFS love to use us as an example of failure in the transgender community. I believe the number of people in the community is much lower than the bigots like to point out, so it doesn’t really matter that much to those of us who have carved out a new life when we left our rabbit holes and carved out a new life.

Sure, it was never easy doing all that work, but in the end, it was so worth it to achieve a dream and stay out of the old hole I had built myself forever.

 

 

  

In the Wrong Room?

 

JJ Hart ahead of first Girl's Night Out.

When I first jumped out of my dark closet and into the bright world, I wondered if I had jumped into the wrong room.

There are other words for my feelings such as impostor syndrome, but I was not far enough along in my transgender development to know them. All I did know was I was feeling ill at ease when I was with another group of women. Which was nearly fatal mistake when it came to being accepted. I discovered how perceptive ciswomen were in their world and could spot a fake miles away. So, I worked hard to show them my truth. I really wanted to earn my way into their world.

It took quite a bit of work and time but slowly I began to be invited to special girls’ nights outs. I never turned down an invitation no matter how terrified I was of going until I began to feel as if I was not in the wrong room after all. It helped when I paid attention to what the other women were doing and saying, and I tried to do the same. As I suspected, the conversations revolved around family and kids, so even though I could not share any birth stories, I could talk about my daughter as a loving parent. A door was opening for me to enter a world I had always dreamed of as an equal, and I cherished my opportunity to learn.

I discovered too that most of the other invitees accepted me easily except for a few I rather not mention. No matter how much they glared at me, I was able to ignore them and have a good time. I was learning I had as much of a reason to be in the room as they did, an invitation from the alpha female gatekeeper who I respected completely for her diverse beliefs. In her life, she was her own contradiction in terms as I saw her. Primarily a strong Christian woman who accepted me for who I was.

On the other hand, men were a completely different story. From the time I started my male to female transition, I was ushered out of the boy’s club I had become a comfortable member of. I learned relatively quickly on the few dates I went out on with men to be quiet and let them lead. No matter how mundane the subject, and how much I knew about it. It worked as I settled into a new world having a lesser IQ. My dates were so rare with men that I never had a chance to feel the chill of being kicked out into a new world I always wanted to live in.

In short, I was thriving in my world and all thoughts of being in the wrong gender room went away. I was in no way an impostor and I deserved to be there. Rather than having a fancy new handbag, I had a fancy new confidence to go with everything else good which was happening for me.

Sadly, the only remaining problems were the same massive ones I refused to face. What was I going to do about my spouse who did not want to live with a woman, all the way to how I was going to support myself financially if I decided to jump the gender border from a male life, I was successful at, to a female one which was largely untested. Helping me along was the knowledge of knowing from all my ciswoman interaction in the real world was successful. It would be difficult, but I knew deep down I could make it. Mainly because the whole process seemed so natural to me.

Finally, I realized I was living my whole life backwards. I was always fighting the idea I was a man trying to be a woman. When in fact the opposite was true. I was a woman all along trying to be a man. It was no wonder I did not feel at home in either of the two main binary genders, male and female. And until I chose the right room, my life and mental health would never improve.

It seemed destiny was on my side as I made the journey into the transfeminine gender side of life. To arrive I had the cruel death of my wife (as well as other close friends to deal with) plus closing my business to overcome. Against all odds, my wife Liz found me online of all places and helped me to rebuild my shattered life. I was able to locate the proper feminine room and stay there.

National Coming Out Day

 

National Coming Out Day is today around here.

Of significance to me is the input I was asked to provide in my Veteran’s Administration LGBTQ support group. In the group, there are equal members from the gay, lesbian, and transgender communities. Yesterday, I was asked when I came out.

I said I came out when I was sixty, or sixteen years ago. Then came the questions of how I actually made the decision to come out in the world as a transgender woman. Since my time to explain was relatively short for such a complex subject. I did my best to explain all the nuances of giving up a male life I worked so hard to maintain. Then I needed to try to explain the unorthodox way I did it. I wished for the freedom of having the written word to do it, so I jumped right in and quickly started how I left the gay bar scene and went to the straight sports bar scene, just to prove I could. Making it all concise was an issue but I did the best I could.

Then the questions shifted to how or who helped me on the special day when I decided to give up all my male clothes, start gender affirming hormones and come out. That person was my wife of ten years plus, Liz. They asked how we met, and I said she literally picked me up on an on-line dating site called “Zoosk.” The lesbians in the group enjoyed the story saying it took a good woman to finally help me coming out. Which I said was true.

I appreciated the fact that the LGBTQ group wanted to hear my story, and I tried to mention all of us are different. If you are considering coming out, naturally it is one of the biggest decisions you will ever make in your life. We have to sacrifice family, friends, jobs and more to live our dreams. There is also a new transgender woman in the group who felt safe enough to explain her gender issues last week. Her story meant a lot to me and I appreciated her tears of joy of being able to talk to someone else about her coming out story.

No matter where you are on your coming out journey, hopefully you will have the support you need to achieve your goal. Remember, it is a marathon not a sprint and there may be many bumps and dead ends along the way for you.

For those of you who have come out, hopefully you are able to live your best life. Congratulations! Now with the current anti transgender climate from the orange Russian asset, we need you more than ever before.

 

 

No Addiction...Just Fact

 

Image from Yumu on
UnSplash.

Perhaps many of you went through the same misgivings about our male to female transitions as I did.

First, I felt it was a simple fetish with the new feminine clothes I was trying to wear. Then, when I outgrew the fetish idea along with mom’s clothes, I needed to try to determine exactly what was going on with me and my gender issues. With no help, and stuck in a very dark closet, I felt alone with no one to talk to. Thank goodness for the “Transvestia” publication by Virginia Prince coming into my life by pure accident which gave me hope for the future. There were others like me who wanted to look like women and have mixers with each other. If only I could make it to one, maybe some of my gender questions could be answered. While entertaining, the mixers I discovered which were close enough for me to attend, did not really answer many of my deep-seated questions. Such as why I was wearing women’s clothes as much as possible. Was I addicted to the clothes or was something else going on.

It did turn out that something much deeper with me was going on. It took me years to figure out the truth. Something much deeper was going on with me and my deeply held gender issues which should not have been problems at all, if I had faced up to them. I was not addicted to looking like a woman, the fact was, I wanted to find my own version of being a woman.

Then the real search for my identity began, as I finally had the courage to open my closet door and go out. In the beginning, ever so briefly until I built up my confidence as a novice transgender woman. Ironically, back then, the term transgender had not been widely used. There were only transvestites (or cross dressers) and transsexuals who wanted to have major surgeries called sex changes. Through this period of my life, I had the uneasy feeling I did not really fit into the transvestite or transsexual mold. I was different and still confused. All the diverse parties I attended were not helping me decide where I really fit.

Still, I kept trying to find my way, and I kept meeting more and more people on the gender spectrum at the parties I went to. From cross dresser admirers to impossibly feminine transsexuals, to the occasional lesbian, I was able to broaden my knowledge of the gender world as I knew it and further research where I belonged. By meeting all of them, I was able to determine where I wanted to be in the world as a transfeminine person and go from there. Plus, I did know, once and for all, the simple act of looking like a woman was not an addiction for me. It was a deep issue which sooner or later in my life I would have to face.

At that time, my progress was slow but steady as I made a far-ranging group of acquaintances in the gender community I was visiting. On one side, I was dealing with Ed, a part-time closeted cross dresser who had a crush on Michelle. A beautiful transsexual woman we both knew. I was stuck in the middle of that strange relationship. Trying my best to be understanding. All I knew was, the interactions I was having were not helping me with my issues which once again I was internalizing. The same thing I perfected in my male life which was so bad for me. I finally came to the point where I realized I needed to be my own person as a transfeminine person. I knew for sure; I had the dream of someday living fulltime as a woman. I just had no idea of how I was going to get there. I set out to discover answers to the many questions I had.

Such as, I knew I was not a cross dresser or transsexual. I was transgender looking for my path. Was I gay? What was my sexuality going to be under the gender affirming hormones I was seriously considering taking. It took me many years of searching before I finally received some long-awaited answers. And would I ever have the courage to face who I really was.

I was fortunate as I always mention that a small group of lesbians took me in and pushed me along my transition path. My sexuality did not have to change and that was one big question out of the way. My validation came from other women, not men and that was a fact.

Once I fully escaped my gender closet, I could look around with confidence and know my new transgender life was not built on addiction that I tried to solve, but on the facts, I refused to accept. I was never meant to be a man, and I was living a lie. The problem was I became good at the lie, and it was difficult to give up. Finally, I did learn through all my searching what the difference was between addiction and lie. Not a fact.